Sunday, May 1, 2016

Hello, everyone! March 29th, 2016 saw the release of the third installment of the exciting dystopian crime thriller series, "Campanelli", by author Frederick H. Crook.

June, 2110. A serial killer
strikes the populace of the City of Chicago. The first victim is a wanted man
by Detective Frank Campanelli’s Sentinel Division. His body had been mutilated
and, from the evidence uncovered by forensic genius, H. Lincoln Rothgery, it
has been partially consumed. The unknown invader leaves a trail of corpses
behind in short order, including that of a homicide detective.

To add to the mystery, the DNA
evidence retrieved from a stolen vehicle indicates that the killer is former
military, but special encoding prevents the murderer from being identified. Frank’s
partner, Marcus Williams, seems to know more about what’s going on than he lets
on, until the former Navy SEAL calls in a friend from the FBI to help.

“The Nighthunter”, as the media
has labeled him, instills terror and virtually shuts down Chicago. Together,
Campanelli, Williams, and the agent must work to capture the enigmatic and frighteningly
efficient cannibal.

Excerpt from, “Campanelli: Siege of the Nighthunter

Lincoln
caught Frank’s gaze. “We found two different types of blood, two sets of DNA in
the car.”

“Go
on,” McLain prompted.

“Herman
Werner’s and the killer’s. No ID’s been matched to his,” Rothgery stated and
stood from his chair. He stepped between the two detectives and stepped
casually toward the sedan. “The killer’s DNA has been engineered, as has the
blood, but there’s no identification to be found in the cells. He is a he and
appears to be of military origin, but it goes beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

“So,
you’re telling me that the killer is a soldier. American?” Frank asked as he
stopped next to Lincoln and stared at the driver’s seat of the ruined car.

“I
can’t even determine that without a serial number, Frank.”

“Soldier
or not, Mister Rothgery…how the hell did he get outta that?” McLain asked from
Lincoln’s other side. The big man waved his hand over the wreckage as he spoke.
“That should’ve been fatal…engineered genes or not.”

“I agree.”
Rothgery slid his glasses from his Roman nose and rubbed his eyes with his free
hand. “Gherling is still researching the DNA and the blood while Teri is
carrying out more tests.”

“You
said Werner’s blood was in the car,” Frank stated.

“Yeah,”
Lincoln said then nodded. “Not much of it, though. A lot of the DNA we found in
it was from hairs in the carpets and seats. My opinion is that he used the car
for some time. Months, perhaps close to a year.”

“So,
Werner was cut out of the seatbelt…then thrown through the air.” Kirby stepped
up to the side of the car and studied the sliced seatbelt. In the bright light,
the precision cut was much more impressive.

“Definitely,”
H. Lincoln affirmed as he replaced his eyeglasses. “And…before I forget…there
are teeth marks on the body.”

“We saw
those,” Frank said. He leaned back on the workbench behind him and crossed his
arms. “The bites on the shoulder.”

“I’m
not talking about those, Frank.”

This
took Kirby’s attention from the wreck to the forensic genius. “What are you
trying to say, Mister Rothgery?”

“I’m
saying he had a little nibble on some muscle tissue while he cut out the heart
and liver. It’s also confirmed that the heart and liver were eaten.” Lincoln
met the eyes of McLain then looked to Campanelli.

“God,”
Kirby uttered and stepped away from the sedan as if it exuded heat.

“How do
you come to that, Lincoln?” Frank asked.

“Pieces
of both organs were left behind in the car. Nothing more than shreds, really.
Seems he had to pick them out of his teeth as he drove.”

Frank
lifted his right hand to his chin and rested it, keeping the left arm tucked.
“You’re telling me that we have a soldier of unknown origin turned cannibal,
running around the streets of Chicago.”

“From
everything we’ve gathered so far, Frank, that’s about the size of it.”

Frederick was born in Chicago in 1970 and now lives in Villa
Park with his wife, Rae and their three dachshunds. He began by writing
fictional works all through high school, but didn’t take himself seriously
until 2009, when Frederick began writing his first novel, The Dregs of
Exodus, which was self-published in late 2010. This was followed up with
another novel, The Pirates of Exodus in 2012.

Throughout that year and 2013, he continued writing and published four short
stories in eBook form for Kindle. Runt Pulse, The Fortress of Albion,
Lunar Troll, and Campanelli: The Ping Tom Affair.

His
third novel, Campanelli: Sentinel, was picked up by Solstice Publishing
in late 2014. The novella, Minuteman Merlin, was released for the Kindle
by Solstice Publishing in March of 2015 and followed up by his fourth novel, Of
Knight & Devil in September. His fifth novel, Campanelli: Siege of
the Nighthunter was released by Solstice in March, 2016.

He is currently an editor for
Solstice Publishing and working on novel number six, a paranormal historical
fiction.

Saturday, March 19, 2016

I'm honored to host author, Michael Thal, on my blog today. Today marks the release of his latest novel, Koolura and the Mayans (Koolura series Book 3) which is available on Amazon.I want to wish Michael the very best of luck with his new endeavor.

Blurb:

Koolura is no ordinary girl. Neither is her best
friend Leila. While visiting Mexico, the girls discover a device which hurtles
them back in time to an early Mayan civilization. The Mayans have troubles of
their own—the alien Aquari people have all but enslaved them. They need a
goddess to set them free. Could Koolura be the one?

Excerpt:

Twelve-year-old Koolura Akopyan stood in the middle
of her bedroom, staring at the open suitcase on her bed. She looked at what she
had already packed. “Okay, I think I have everything. Laptop and books are in
the backpack. Clothes and bridesmaid’s dress in the suitcase.” She paused and
flopped onto the bed. “Gosh, I can’t believe Daddy and Terri are finally
getting married.”

Koolura took a deep breath and stared out her
window. Palm tree fronds swayed in a gentle Southern California breeze under a
cloudless sky. Her room was decorated in a seaside motif with navy blue pillows
pressed against the headboard and resting on a turquoise comforter. The ceiling
was dotted with billowy white clouds she had painted during a boring winter
vacation.

“Enough daydreaming, time to go.” After all, there
was a wedding to attend in beautiful Oaxaca, Mexico. It would be followed by a
parade with a mariachi band and Mayan dancers and then a big wedding reception
and party.

She stood up and latched shut her suitcase. Then she
slung her backpack over one shoulder and picked up her suitcase with her other
hand. She thought of the weekend trip she and her dad took to visit her best
friend forever (BFF) Leila and her parents a few months ago. The drive to Marin
County had been seven hours of boredom.

This will be a lot quicker.

Then, focusing on the memory of Leila’s bedroom,
Koolura evaporated into a burst of white light reappearing instantly at a
doorway on the second floor home across the bay from San Francisco.

“I did it!” She grinned just as Leila poked her head
out of the bathroom and jumped.

“Oh! You frightened me.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to,” Koolura signed in American
Sign Language (ASL). “The good news is that I’m hitting the bullseye more often
now when teleporting.”

Leila giggled. “The last time we teleported together
you missed the boat and we had to swim 100 yards.” She wrapped her arms around
her friend and gave Koolura a warm hug.

Koolura hugged back and then stepped into Leila’s
room. “Huge improvement,” she signed, wide-eyed. Lavender drapes covered the
windows looking out at the Golden Gate Bridge in the distant background.
Wallpaper on one wall showed large black and gold circles floating into each
other.

Leila’s freckled cheeks swelled into a grin.
“Thanks. So fill me in. What’s the plan with this trip?”

“Simple. My dad bought us tickets to Oaxaca, Mexico,
where he’ll meet us at the airport.”

“Oh, so we’re flying?”

“Not exactly.” Koolura’s eyes twinkled with
mischief. “I’ve cashed in our tickets to Oaxaca for pocket money. We’ll fly
back to California with Dad and Terri, so we’ll keep those. I’ll teleport us
straight to the hotel in Oaxaca. I’ll tell Dad we arrived early and grabbed a
shuttle from the airport to save him time.”

Leila shook her head, but was grinning. “Don’t you
mind lying to your dad?”

“I hate it,” Koolura signed. “But Dad doesn’t know I
can teleport, fly, and heal the sick. All he knows is that I have the power of
telekinesis.”

“Moving objects with your mind?” Leila signed.

“Yeah. That scares him enough. I don’t want to freak
him out any more than I have to.”

Leila nodded knowingly. When Koolura first revealed
her powers to Leila at Camp Saddleback, she had thought Koolura was an alien
from a faraway star.

Bio:

The Legend of Koolura was Michael’s debut novel.
This was shortly followed by Goodbye Tchaikovsky. Two years later, Koolura and
the Mystery at Camp Saddleback was published. What began as an impromptu story
for his daughter blossomed into the Koolura Series. Koolura and the Mayans is the third installment in the series.

Michael has a masters’ degrees in Education from
Washington University, St. Louis and California State University, Northridge.
Previously a middle school teacher, after suffering from a severe hearing loss
leaving him near deaf, Michael redefined himself to become an award winning
writer.

Koolura and the Mayans (Koolura series Book 3) is
now available on Amazon

Friday, March 4, 2016

Lola’s not pretty. Lola’s not popular. Lola wishes she could disappear … and then one day she does just that...

For seventeen-year-old Lola Savullo, life is a struggle. Born to funky parents who are more in than she could ever be, Lola’s dream of becoming a writer makes her an outsider even in her own home. Bullied and despised, Lola still has the support of her best pal Charlie and Grandma Rose.

Not only is she freakishly tall, Lola’s a big girl and when forced to wear a bathing suit at her summer job as a camp counselor, Lola’s only escape from deep embarrassment seems to be to literally vanish. Soon after, she discovers the roots of her new “ability”.

Slowly, with Charlie’s help, Lola learns to control the new super power. The possibilities are endless. Yet power can be abused, too…

When tragedy strikes, Lola must summon her inner strength, both at home and at school. She has to stand up for herself, despite the temptations and possibilities of her newfound super power.

A coming-of-age story that will warm the heart.

For a limited time, the ebook will be available for just 99 cents (FREE for KU)

Excerpt:

Chapter One

“Lola, get your suit on and help supervise the pool. The more
eyes the better,” Justine, the athletic, sun-kissed, twenty-one-year-old camp
director ordered once we wrangled our none-too-obedient charges off the bus.
The gaggle of four to eight year olds ran around in a loud, unruly horde as
soon as their sneakered feet hit the parking lot pavement. Counselors soon managed
some semblance of organization. Calls for straight lines and, “Hey, get back
here,” reached my ears.

Luckily, my group was well behaved,
perhaps because I had the fewest kids—only six of them and most, thank God, were
girls.

“Lola?” Justine was beside me,
glaring. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Without looking at her, I shook my
head no. But I had heard her, loud
and clear, except I wanted desperately to push her words away, hoping she’d
recant and it would be business as usual.

“Get. Your. Suit. On,” she said again
and this time, my heart took off in a sprint.

“What? Why?” I tried to hide the
wobble in my voice. It was my job to watch the kids who weren’t swimming—the
ones who’d left their suits at home or didn’t feel well.

Curious, expectant gazes turned to my
way as fellow counselors waited with evil half-grins, for my reaction. Although
no one, except my best friend Charlie, knew how I felt about wearing a bathing
suit, I realized my co-workers had to be aware of my private horror, because it
was the horror of every fat girl.

Justine sighed as she flipped through
the sheets on her clipboard, running a finger down the column of names. “No
campers are sitting out today, Lola, so you have to help supervise the pool.”

The impossible had just happened. In
my three summers as a counselor, there had always been at least one measly kid who didn’t swim on pool
day.

For one long, awkward moment, I stood
frozen in place. How could I get out of this? A sudden migraine? My period? I
tried to speak, but nothing came out except a tiny, almost inaudible, moan.

Justine rolled her eyes and walked
away, taking my chance for escape with her. I searched through my bag for my
black one-piece, barely able to see a thing through my tear-blurred eyes. Somehow,
I managed to stuff away the panic and gather the nerve to march past my
co-workers, who I’d never thought of as friends, despite working with them
summer after summer.

Finally, in the dank change room, I
entered an empty stall and locked the door with shaky fingers. I was sweating
from both the heat and anxiety. The stench of my panic filled my nostrils as I felt around in my bag
for a stick of deodorant, though I knew full well, I wouldn’t find one. With a
sigh, I stretched my suit over sweat-slicked skin, wriggling and struggling to
pull it up past wide hips and a bulging belly.

A moan escaped me. Not only was I
fat, I was freakishly tall. God only knew why, since Mom was petite and Dad was
on the short side. My older sister, Eva, was the spitting image of Mom, fair
and fine boned. Apparently, I took after Dad’s side—bulky, dark, and thick. I
must have gotten some of Uncle Sammy’s genes, the giant of the family, who topped
out at six foot five.

I peered down at the coarse dark hair
creeping up my calves to just past my knees, where it gradually petered out. My
insides dropped as if I’d placed a foot on a step that wasn’t there. I ran a
hand across the tops of my thighs. The triple bulge of my belly prevented a
good look at what my hand told me was a sorely neglected bikini area. There had
never been a reason to shave. Even in the blazing August heat, I wore baggy
cotton Capri pants, never exposing more than an ankle.

My throat pulsed with an ache to cry
and my eyes misted again. I swallowed my distress and pinched away tears. It
would be torturous enough to step out of the change room looking like this, but
I wouldn’t give the other counselors the satisfaction of watching me have a
meltdown. I lifted my chin in resolve and opened the door. As I peeked out, I
spied a line of girls jumping with excitement and a few harried counselors
corralling them to the exit.

A whistle blew, signaling the
beginning of the session. Screams of delight filled the air, as the kids ran to
the pool and jumped in, finding relief from the ninety-degree heat.

I fastened a towel around my waist as
best I could. Towels never seemed large enough to wrap completely and comfortably
around the bulge of my belly. To the pool I went, treading silently so as not
to draw attention.

“Where’s Lola?” Sonia, a counselor, asked
loudly to no one in particular.

She had to be joking. I was no more
than a foot from her as I trudged to the edge of the pool, where I yanked off
my towel and splashed clumsily into the cool water.

“Yeah. Where is that hippo?” Jerod
replied, looking around, a wide smile on his face. He was a year younger than
me, but looked older with his muscular build and chiseled jaw.

“I hope she doesn’t show,” he
continued, “who wants to see that thing in a bathing suit anyway?”

Sonia made her way over to Jerod,
laughing a little too hard. She put a hand on his shoulder and sat beside him;
both dangled long slender legs in the water. “Maybe she ran away. Can’t really
blame her. I’d never wear a bathing suit if I was that fat,” Sonia said.

Puzzlement and anger competed within
me. I was standing in the pool right in front of them! Jerod lifted a leg and
kicked at the water; splashes hit my face, making me turn away. I was used to
rude comments and knew what everyone thought of me, but this was beyond mean. I
couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks. An urge to tell them off
surged through me. Instead, I slipped under the water, hoping to wash away the
evidence of my pain.

Kids bounced all around me, laughing
and playing. Justine stood like a sentinel, a Baywatch babe in her red suit,
one hand gripping an emergency flotation device. Her steel blue eyes were
focused on the pool.

Jerod jumped in, nearly landing on me,
but I managed to get out of the way just in time. Blood rushed to my temples
and pounded there, giving me an instant headache. I hurled myself at him,
elbows aimed at his chest. I hit nothing but air and flew into the rough
concrete wall of the pool, scraping a hole in my one-piece and rubbing raw a
patch of skin. Blood pin-pricked to the surface.

“Hey,” I screamed, bewildered. How
the hell did he get out of the way so fast?

Jerod slipped under the water looking
like a god, all six-packed lean muscle, and emerged at the other end of the
pool in one long, slick glide.

I pulled myself out of the water,
slipping one chubby leg over the lip then landing on my side like a beached
whale. After struggling to my feet and gathering up what was left of my
dignity, I marched over to Justine.

“Did you see what that asshole just
did?” I hollered. She was my boss and could probably can my ass for the way I’d
just spoken to her but I couldn’t help it. Frustration and anger had hijacked
my brain.

Justine brought the whistle hanging
from her neck to her lips and blew two sharp blasts, making my ears ring. “Stop
horsing around,” she called to a group of boys, who immediately offered up
sheepish grins and stopped their horseplay.

What the hell? I moved directly in
front of her so she could no longer ignore me. “Justine?”

She stared past me, eyes still glued
to the action in the pool. I reached to touch her shoulder but impossibly, my
hand fell through her.

“Justine?” I called again, this time
louder, my voice panic-laced. With both hands, I grabbed her, or tried to. Again, it was as if she wasn’t
there. My mind was swept along in a current of anxiety. What was happening?

Then it hit me... it was me who
wasn’t there.

Bio:

I've worked as a professional editor for one of the world's largest publisher for over twenty-five years and have written two novels and two novellas. Invisible is the closest to my heart.

When not writing, I enjoy spending time with my husband, Dave and our daughters, Nina and Sara as well as our fur babies, Spencer (a badly behaved Tabby) and Lila, a sweet Boston Terrier.

Friday, February 19, 2016

I thank Jeanne for
giving in to my begging her to be on her site. One year in the making and the
book has made it to market. Here I share a few things, including an excerpt not
shared anywhere else yet. It's not one of those exciting ones, but a nice
moment in time where the main character isn't the main character of the scene.
It involves one of my favorite characters I created, a man named Gimby, the
helmsman for Captain Gabriel Wallace. Stay tuned following the
synopsis.

Jeanne's reply - Ronovan is much too humble. He did not beg. He didn't even ask to be on my blog. Over the years, Ronovan has given so much of himself, his talents and his time to other writers, it's only fair that he now take center stage. So, please, welcome Mr. Ronovan Hester and his wonderful debut novel, Amber Wake, to Beyond Words.

Synopsis

The autumn of 1705 brings Royal Navy Captain Gabriel Wallace
to face off against an enemy within
the ranks of the Admiralty itself that threatens his career, his reputation,
his family, and something even more far-reaching in its plot.

Court-martialed and with Admiral Chambers, the mastermind
fearfully known as the Chambers of Hell, out for his destruction, Wallace finds
he has allies willing to face the might of the mightiest power on earth, with
some allies in the most unlikely of places. The crew of his former command, the
Majesty’s Venture, mutinies from the Royal Navy. With
capture by his enemies close behind, Wallace agrees to become captain once
again.

With a ship at his command, Captain Gabriel Wallace sets out
to fulfill his mission, the completeness of which only he knows.

Now a pirate by situation, Wallace sets out for the Colonies
and the Caribbean. Will his crew remain loyal as they leave the rule of the
Royal Navy behind? Will his lifelong friend, Miles Jacobs, follow Wallace
blindly without knowing the whole story? Finally, will the young Lieutenant
Maddox Carbonale stay under the command of Wallace or have plans to lead
instead?

With these questions in his thoughts, Gabriel Wallace wages
war on Chambers and goes after the largest haul in the history of the Spanish
Main. Whom does Wallace meet along the way? To whom are his loyalties to:
vengeance or something more powerful?

If you love tales of adventure, of the sea, of the struggles
of men, and nods to history, this is your book. Read Amber Wake: Gabriel
Falling and you’ll have a new appreciation for all of The Razor’s
Adventures Pirate Tales.

Excerpt

I paused beside Gimby and held on, taking a brief rest from
my many circuits of the ship. “Beggin’ your pardon, Cap’n but if you don’t stop
your pacin’, the crew’s goin’ to be jumpin’ out of their skin and into the sea!”
he shouted to me over the crashing waves and hammering rain.

“It’s a storm, Mister Gimby. They’ll survive it as they’ve
done many times before.”

“It’s Adam, sir. They know you’re concerned and so are they!
They know you’re diggin’ your insides out for lettin’ him go
ashore.”

“Gimby!”

“Cap’n, if anyone’s ta blame it’s me. I knew a storm was
coming but it was moving faster than I expected.”

I stared for several moments at the sober expression of the
soaking wet sailor, who had more experience than any two men aboard ship put
together. He showed no signs of concern over Carbonale and Adam, yet blamed
himself in what I imagined to be an effort to absolve me of my own
guilt.

“I worry for your sanity at times, Mister Gimby,” I remarked
as I clung to the lines for support and continued my walk.

“Aye, Captain. That’s why I was assigned to your ship!” He
grinned.

I paused and looked back at him. There might have been
amusement in his eyes but there was also truth. If his sanity was in question,
the answer was that he’d seen to the safety of the
Majesty’s Venture on more voyages
into danger than most of the other ships of the Royal Navy. I knew he’d do the
same for the Assurance; perhaps even more.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my son for giving me purpose to wake
up each day and move forward with my dreams instead of giving up when life
threw me for a loop.

Bio

Ronovan Hester is a writer living near Athens, Ga, home of his alma mater,
The University of Georgia, where he received a B.S.Ed. in History Education.
Ronovan puts his love of history and his over 20 years of writing experience to
use in his debut Historical Adventure set in 1705 England, American Colonies,
and Caribbean co-authored with P.S. Bartlett.

Ronovan’s devotion to history and writing sometimes competes
with his love of tacos and fresh fruit. At times, all his favorite things work
hand in hand in mouth during long binge writing sessions that have been known
to last nonstop for over 24 hours. Rather than see a sleep disorder as a
hindrance, he uses the time for creative purposes, or watching old TV shows on
online.

Ronovan enjoys putting elements of history, if only as nods
to the past, in all of his book projects. He currently instills that love of
history and learning in his son daily as he helps him through his college prep
courses, meaning hours of homework every night, even while not yet a
teenager—his son, not Ronovan. Now if he could find a very good mute for that
trumpet his son just began learning.

Thank you one more time to Jeanne and to anyone that's bought
Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling so far, thank you. From Melissa in Ireland to
Florence in Australia, we're covering the map.